tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17478234883357198762012-01-30T17:27:45.948-08:00A Story of Fatherhood and the Making of an AlbumJoshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.comBlogger791100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-36872872286766723002012-01-30T17:27:00.000-08:002012-01-30T17:27:45.958-08:00

They called him "The Preacher" Well, actually the other characters in a Vonnegut novel called him the preacher. But they called him "The Preacher" because he never used swear words. They would ask him all the time: "Hey Preacher, Why don't you use swear words?" And he would answer: "Because one day, there will come a time, when your life depends on you understanding exactly what I'm saying to

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-63967581371701843932012-01-11T18:06:00.000-08:002012-01-11T18:34:54.749-08:00

Calvin asked me the other day how many people I've killed. I paused before answering. "More than my fair share, sweetie" I don't know where he got the idea that I had ever killed people. Maybe its because I told him once how terrified monsters were of me and that's the reason there aren't any monsters that would dare come near our house. Maybe its because I taught him how to use a sword. A

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-22117854893008756462011-10-05T20:36:00.000-07:002011-10-05T20:36:09.352-07:00

The Year . . . I shit you not . . . 1986. Orwell was wrong. (which is a joke you would get if you were alive then and got to see the Macintosh commercial) We had sold our dust collecting grand piano and bought a Macintosh Plus. Along with an Imagewriter II printer and so much pirated programming that I'm almost ashamed to admit it. Almost. I remember building the desk for it. It was the

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-57596740363417789262011-09-17T17:51:00.000-07:002011-09-19T18:06:11.064-07:00

Me: I'm starting to really hate that new Maroon 5 single. Taylor: "Moves Like Jagger" . . .  why? Me: Cause he doesn't. Taylor: Oh That was kind of a conversation killer on the way to drop my son off at the dorms. Taylor doesn't do idle chit chat unless its 1:15am and there's a world wide web involved. I was thinking about this at the beginning of our drive after reading an article on the 20th

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-9405307246463718032011-09-09T22:27:00.000-07:002011-09-09T22:27:28.042-07:00

Cole Porter. John Lennon. Amadeus. Leonard Cohen. These are the people I'd like to meet in heaven. Will they be in the same room? Will they be in the Pantheon of songwriters? Will I be allowed into the room? Will I have to show my ID? Will I have to display a lexicon of my work in orderer to enter or will I be allowed to glide in like Jay Zee at the hottest night club in Manhattan? Or will I be

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-31956013360764516422011-08-28T14:02:00.000-07:002011-08-28T14:07:02.902-07:00

So Calvin asked me this question: What does Please mean? Its a polite way of asking someone for something. Cause really? What the hell does "Please" mean? But then I had to put my thinking cap on because he gave me that insolent little look the proves he knows I was giving him a non answer. The kind of answer that ranks right up there with "Cause I said so." Well Calvin . . . I breathed.

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-1501832096977827262011-06-27T19:46:00.000-07:002011-06-27T20:00:02.868-07:00

Yeah. That never would have made a good lyric, but contract a few words, discard the ending, and you've got the title of one of the most maligned verse/chorus songs of all time. I was on that ride on Wednesday. Much to the immediate displeasure of Calvin, who whined and complained all through the line and then closed his eyes and covered his ears as we made that joyously air-conditioned boat

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-68863086189415418882011-06-11T20:45:00.000-07:002011-06-11T20:45:53.747-07:00

I stare at the face in the mirror. The one everyone else sees, but I can only glance at. The skin once smooth now creased with a million smiles and a thousand furrowed brows. There is very little boy left in that face. The boy exists now only in the gleam of the eyes and the tilt of the head. This man is still as angry as the boy. Still as confused. Still burning with the fury he felt ten twenty

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-72038157664904704252011-06-01T22:18:00.000-07:002011-06-01T22:23:48.252-07:00

I'm a damn good teacher. Its why I have the job that I have. I might not be the best employee in the world. I might be a little too open about the mistakes I make, too honest about how I feel about things, but I can command a room, get people to listen to me, and have them walk away feeling as if their time was well spent. I can make a paradigm shift seem like a walk in the park, and filter

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-27679277854454277692011-05-23T14:47:00.000-07:002011-05-23T14:51:03.570-07:00

Don't be such a snot bubble. Dad, there's no such thing. Of course there is. In fact, I majored in snot bubbles in college. No . . . You didn't. And he was right of course. I never majored in snot bubbles. What little college I did finish was devoted solely to the theater. Instead of Speech, I took Voice. Instead of PE, I took fencing and dance. Psychology was devoted to the scansion of plays

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-57238455017739741222011-05-09T11:47:00.000-07:002011-05-09T11:57:17.790-07:00

That was how the execution was first described. Tap. You're most likely dead. Tap. You're hella dead. To use my late eighties Californian vernacular. I'm not gonna weigh in on the pros and cons, the right versus wrong, or raise my fist, or thumb my nose. But I will say this; the double tap, aside from being a well respected method of execution, is also a social convention we use every day.

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-46888077423607475172011-04-28T15:49:00.000-07:002011-04-28T16:48:55.526-07:00

Are you excited to go to the zoo?Will there be cows?I don't know.Cause I'm not going to the zoo if there's gonna be cows.Kay.I'm far from delighted to admit that the fear of cows isn't exactly a new thing in my house hold. Walking home from visiting his preschool Calvin suddenly stopped, screamed and ran to Joann and I in clear panic.What the fuck?We thought.What's the matter?We said.I can't see

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-56897735121916616662011-04-18T10:01:00.000-07:002011-04-18T12:22:50.378-07:00

I don't normally read the arts section of my Sunday newspaper.Most of the time the artists are droll and predictable and I spend the rest of the day in a huff of vernacular superiority.Sometimes they are classy and exciting and I spend the rest of the day in a huff of insecure inferiority.Either way.I huff.At first glance of the front page I was fully ready to be dismissive. A sea of orange

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-23432751991131219272011-04-13T15:22:00.000-07:002011-04-13T16:35:08.315-07:00

Yesterday I got to deliver a speech to 300 teenagers.The speech was a letter to my dead son.Killed by a drunk driver on his way home from school.There really wasn't a drunk driver, nor is Taylor really dead. For now.The occasion was a mock situation at Taylor's high-school where students were removed from their classrooms and sequestered in a hotel for 24 hours. The rest of the class was read an

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-3827496854392047502011-03-21T08:47:00.000-07:002011-03-21T10:43:17.483-07:00

Dad?Hmm?You've got a lot of songs in you tonight.Joann laughs.There's a new song title for you.Or at least a new blog topic.And he was right. I had a lot of songs in me that night.We used to have this routine following dinner. Joann would ease her way into the kitchen to start cleaning up the mess I made while cooking. I would ease my way to the couch, place the guitar on my lap and play. Calvin

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-20471917786524391722011-03-15T19:39:00.001-07:002011-03-15T19:39:28.446-07:00

Talked with a man today.The man had been to the mall.He had been to the mall to see the lines for the new iPad 2.He asked the guy standing at the front of the line how long he had been there.Since 4 O'clock yesterday.The other man said.That was 24 hours in line.Waiting for a new toy.I once stood in line for six hours for Rolling Stones tickets.But we were right next to the beach.And I spent more

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-2301116511625827292011-03-07T17:02:00.001-08:002011-03-07T17:02:01.841-08:00

So my last bit of writing I tried something different. I tried blogging directly from my iphone.Which was great.Except that it wasn't totally awesome.It wasn't totally awesome because after about thirteen minutes I had only written about two paragraphs and my thumbs were starting to tire. I haven't developed the phalangial fortitude I would need in order to write an entire essay. For this I blame

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-2996952742830752692011-02-27T19:27:00.001-08:002011-02-27T19:27:27.053-08:00

All I want is a quick solution to a universal how problem. How do I do all the things that I want to do at the exact time and place that I want to do them?More specifically, how can I write this blog whenever and wherever I want without the systematic problems such as fighting over computer usage rights from my stay at home step child, while simultaneously being available to defeat the level

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-56928923451639687852011-02-23T19:43:00.000-08:002011-02-23T20:14:11.011-08:00

Dad.What?Dad?What?I'm talking to you . . . What?Will be be babies again after the world explodes?Some people think so.Will you make me a ninja axe?I'll tell you what. I'll make you a ninja axe after you take a little nap.Noooo. I don't take naps anymore. I don't like them. I like video games and toys and presents and sex.What did you say? . . . take the lollipop out of your mouth. What did you

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-75340929342645197622011-02-07T09:18:00.000-08:002011-02-13T14:34:36.689-08:00

The acting program that I graduated from in 1999 has been canceled.Not much of a shocker.Art costs serious dough, and the funny thing about intangibles is that they're . . . well . . . intangible. And when the bean counters finish their tallies it becomes obvious that they're gonna have to lose the foot to save the leg. And I continue on with this metaphor by stating that you clearly can't walk

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-83870579061550719502011-01-31T19:01:00.000-08:002011-01-31T19:26:07.505-08:00

I'm overwhelmed.And its my own damn fault. The creative mind is like a fly wheel. Tough to get moving, tough to slow down, nearly impossible to stop, and right now, just spinnin and spinnin and spinnin.The first song I wrote for Castle Park was penned as a fun little ditty. Not really for anything but my own amusement. But the silly ditty ballooned into the idea of a concept album, which then

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-55222466250940058822011-01-22T11:11:00.000-08:002011-01-22T12:02:13.728-08:00

The company that hosts my first album on iTunes has informed me that it has been 1183 days since my last release. There's also a big green button on the front of my dashboard that says "Release New Album Now." I'm considering pressing that button in the hopes that it is a magical one.That is to say, it might just be the kind of button that one would press when one is adrift in artistic purgatory.

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-8631226527629584272011-01-11T18:56:00.000-08:002011-01-11T19:14:17.995-08:00

Reason Number Ten:I'm resorting to top tens.Reason Number Nine:I was in my jammies before 5:00pmReason Number Eight:Had to make tacos for the rest of the family cause I wanted a red cabbage salad instead.Reason Number Seven:On top of which I burned the taco shells and Calvin won't eat them so I had to make him a turkey sandwich with carrot sticks.Reason Number Six: Actually decided to have a red

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-52535275066400516942011-01-10T18:50:00.000-08:002011-01-10T20:08:41.347-08:00

So last week, unbeknownst to all, I decided to begin my new year's resolutions and get my shit together for lack of a more elegant term. I know that New Year's resolutions have become sort of passe, but I've decided to bring them back, if for any other reason, just to be contrary.Last week was the "get your ass off the couch" week. Of course I was a little sidelined by a big new book, but I

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-33353060877250758582011-01-07T19:39:00.000-08:002011-01-07T20:12:25.456-08:00

"Gee we've got a lot of meds." I said to my wife searching for the vitamins. I didn't actually say "Gee", but I'm in a bit of a G-Rated mood today. (Pun . . . freakishly intended.)However what I was looking for wasn't in the primary medicine location."I'll check the secondary pharmacy." She had of course stopped listening to me at this point, but I continued my search. And my talking to myself."

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-60824402455246274562011-01-06T19:27:00.001-08:002011-01-06T20:10:50.995-08:00

Joann came home with my last christmas present yesterday. Bundled in a Barnes and Noble bag was the almost twenty pound autobiography of Mark Twain.Volume One.of three.An all new time suck has begun.For those of you who don't get NPR, Mark Twain wrote an autobiography that he insisted not be published until one-hundred years after his death. He died in 1910.Actually for those of you who don't get

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-5873667467037913362011-01-05T19:11:00.000-08:002011-01-05T19:50:28.559-08:00

I have failed Calvin's hero test.Not with cruelty. Not with a lack of compassion. Not with average everyday loser-dom.But by not knowing how to kill the bad guys on Mario Galaxy 2.Its shameful. Its obscene."how can you tell me to go to my room when you don't even know how to kill the bad guys?" his eyes seem to say.See . . . and this is the truth . . . my dad could do everything.He could play

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-8486687178560227012011-01-04T19:08:00.001-08:002011-01-04T19:31:28.958-08:00

Lying in my bed.Novel, face down on my chest.Eyelids closed, but I'm not really sleeping.There's a moment of silence.But just a moment.I can hear Joann talking on the phone. Her voice always goes up a half a scale when she's talking on the phone as if her phone voice is that of a fourteen year old. It's a lilting voice when she's talking to friends and loved ones, a mousy hesitant voice when its

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-79376075967852271212011-01-03T10:46:00.000-08:002011-01-03T11:06:37.180-08:00

2010 was unreasonably depressing.Not in the "bad things happening to good people" sort of depressing, but in the "I don't know what I'm doing, I don't care what I'm doing, what's in the fridge and/or on TV" kind of depressing. I've grown accustom to those kinds of years and have made my peace with them. Twelve months is a long time to be floating in purgatory, but some people like the view so

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-22742667592198899582010-11-22T11:30:00.000-08:002010-11-22T11:35:48.034-08:00

“Mommy i wot you to tac me to the game stor”This note was scribbled on a lined sheet of paper and placed on the tile facing the front door.The reason for the note was clear.All morning Calvin has been insisting that we were going to the game store to buy him a Cars game for the Wii.He cried and moaned. Begged and whined. Was quiet for an hour when I told him to let me finish my coffee before I

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-41043581509819642712010-11-07T12:00:00.000-08:002010-11-07T12:35:24.846-08:00

I have a rule when I'm writing.I don't listen to music.The reason I don't listen to music is because the part of my brain, the sub-conscience ether if you will, is both a thief and a liar. He's a bit of a drunk too. Not only that, but he's prone to a light depressive state that is very much like apathy with a little self doubt thrown in.Yeah, I've been listening to a lot of music lately.New stuff

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-14615106446046047032010-09-06T14:48:00.000-07:002010-09-06T15:36:49.668-07:00

Dad asked me when I was gonna write again.I had no discernible answer.Soon, I guess.It's not that I hadn't tried. I've sat down to write fifty times since my last post. A page or two here and there. Never a blank page. Not writers block by any means. I'd sit, I'd write, I'd look at the clock, I'd get listless and decide to do something else. Sometimes I had to leave to make dinner or pick up the

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-1291832009576987142010-04-26T23:08:00.000-07:002010-04-26T23:09:10.141-07:00

Two-a-days.The bane of corner-backs and dance captains.It was a term I first heard my brother use during his high-school football years. Two-a-Days referred to the last few weeks of practice before the football season began.The team would practice for four or five hours in the morning and return in the late afternoon for another four or five hour practice. Remember that the start of football

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-38274731519452110552010-04-19T18:53:00.000-07:002010-04-19T21:00:40.823-07:00

"Cockroaches. Everywhere, cockroaches!" the boy hissed as he sped passed us toward destination unknown.We had been apartment hunting in LA for three days and it had not been a success. One apartment labeled "One Bedroom with New York style loft" had turned out to be a small studio with a cheap shelving unit separating the living space. Others had bars on windows, and signs that said "Clearly not

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-53217141070905621962010-04-09T10:40:00.000-07:002010-04-09T16:23:36.945-07:00

Haven't written in a long time.Sorry.But it's not because of any sort of block or even laziness.I haven't written because I met a man.I met a man who is afraid of butterflies.And not just any ho hum skiddishness when the little insects take flight, but the kind of fear that stops his breath, grips tightly to the base of his spine, and sends him running in the other direction. The sort of fear we

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-25460103414289426342010-03-03T15:26:00.000-08:002010-03-04T19:20:00.213-08:00

I hate people who mosey,truth be told.And truth be told, you are no friend of mine if you stroll, ramble, or meander. God help you if you saunter, cause if you're a saunterer,you are dead to me.I've always been infuriated by slow moving people. I don't mean the disabled or the infirm, just the sunday drivers on the two-lane highway of life. And that's not to say I haven't stopped and smelled my

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-1684598435585766892010-02-07T08:10:00.000-08:002010-02-07T12:49:16.078-08:00

I was thinking back and I realized that this is not the first time I have posted material of "Castle Park" for audience preview, in fact this will be the third. But this time I'm going to really push to get everyone within email distance to check it out and invite them to comment.If you've been reading from the beginning, then you probably get the gist of this experiment and can skip the next

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-87779050162645211522010-02-01T15:46:00.000-08:002010-02-01T16:56:48.999-08:00

Got some great responses to my last blog.But it made me realize that I may have been a little overdramatic.A little too Tennessee Williams and not enough Neil Simon.What I meant to say was that the scratch demo I recorded sounded far different from my original intent.I didn't say it was bad, or that I should check myself into the Ford Clinic, but I wasn't prepared for how different.It was like

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-91015660267251328922010-01-24T16:17:00.000-08:002010-01-24T18:00:02.877-08:00

"For some of you, this new program will enhance the work you've already been doing, for others it will be a total paradigm shift"he said.Now, way back in the old days, to me, corporate buzz words were like finger nails down the chalkboard of my soul.Using terms like synergy, paradigm shift and thinking outside the box was a one way ticket to endearing yourself to me as a court jester. Good for a

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-16046545908990230952009-12-30T19:16:00.000-08:002009-12-30T20:56:24.081-08:00

Time, man.It's a killer.In a different era, when I was a much different man, I was fond of telling the people around me who complained about not having enough time is this:"Time is not something that's given. Time is something you make."And I was right.Still am to some degree.But what I didn't conceive then, was what happens to you when you've spent your life making time and then you've reached

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-44763157330736772432009-12-08T16:29:00.000-08:002009-12-08T18:29:53.963-08:00

I missed a deadline.Not just any deadline, a serious deadline.The kind of deadline that caused panic in the streets and inured me with the title "Jerk-Ass of the Week"How did I miss this deadline?Glad you asked.I missed this deadline because I forgot to check my personal work email inbox on a friday afternoon. And then again on Saturday morning. And then again on Saturday afternoon. I checked my

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-23308512541730306052009-11-30T12:15:00.000-08:002009-11-30T13:36:18.359-08:00

Considering the holiday, with my belly stuffed with leftovers and a fridge full of stuff that will be nibbled but not fully eaten, I figured its as good a time as any to talk about the kind of songs that are tasty but have no true value.I speak, of course, of filler.Filler in my rough definition is the kind of song that is written to fill out the twelve song quota of the modern album.These are

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-19490621299284711222009-10-27T15:57:00.000-07:002009-10-27T17:28:49.101-07:00

Before I dig in, please have a little faith that this is not a nostalgia piece. This isn't about boyhood lost, or the paving over of some memory.Live in the now, Fat Kid, live in the now.So anyway, if the beginning of this story smacks of sentimentality, bear with me.Ready?A building just outside of Sonoma was recently torn down.What was the chipped facade of an old hotel is now rubble. A pile of

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-55648833743926349502009-10-14T19:35:00.000-07:002009-10-14T19:39:04.309-07:00

To write or not to write. That is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to pen rhymes on scattered shopping lists strewn about the house and suffer the slings and Legos of a complacent four year old in his outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of accumulated junk piled six feet high and ten feet deep. And by opposing the pack rat tendencies of an indecisive wife, end them.

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-49846180759173341062009-10-06T15:27:00.000-07:002009-10-06T16:59:13.696-07:00

Today was the first day of preschool.Not some hippie lets roll around in the mud and talk about our feelings kind of preschool, but the kind of preschool that is in a square little room covered in boxes and flash cards and toys. The kind of preschool where the teachers have seen three generations pass, they drive American cars with fake wood paneling and probably need to sneak off for a quick

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-27692568188607218752009-09-21T11:31:00.000-07:002009-09-21T12:45:26.654-07:00

August and September have completely disappeared.I, for one, blame the iPhone.It's genius mobility and ease of use has totally decapitated my "stop and smell the flowers" time. Sitting down with my lap-top feels archaic and slow. Anywhere I go I'm connected to everything and involved in nothing. As my readers will be quick to point out, I haven't published in almost two months. I haven't written

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-1709947261859288862009-08-12T15:52:00.000-07:002009-08-12T17:08:11.818-07:00

I don't know how I feel about deadlines.When it comes to my job, a job I won't discuss in this forum, I'm rather irritated by them. They seem to strike in the very moment when I can give them my least attention. Their very nature elicits mediocre work. I never accomplished anything good for a deadline, just half-assed. Gimme a little space and let me set my own priorities, and I could take over

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-81117387206946889962009-07-29T19:08:00.000-07:002009-07-29T20:41:28.404-07:00

Why yes, that is the title of a "Hootie and the Blowfish" album.So then, why in god's name, you ask, are you starting off from there?Wow, good question, I say with an understanding bob of my head.I'm also looking blankly at the joint between the wall and the ceiling as if I didn't really have a good answer.First: I started transferring songs to my iPhone, and Hootie didn't make the cut.I simply

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-88467472852194019862009-07-27T19:22:00.000-07:002009-07-27T19:58:55.068-07:00

Today I had to take a toy away from my sixteen year old step son because the three year old was screaming that it was his turn to play with the toy.The toy was my new iPhone.And i got into a verbal argument with the sixteen year old on how we are supposed to share things.I can't believe I had this argument.They were both yelling at each other and so I took the phone away from the big one and

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-21402403462692329832009-07-21T18:49:00.000-07:002009-07-21T19:41:41.570-07:00

Sometimes . . . the universe is out to get you.Now I'm not one who is easily dissuaded from an idea. I take my dreams seriously. I work hard, and push myself unreasonably toward my goals.I was told once by an algebra teacher that there was no way I was ever going to pass his class. I was told by an acting coach (and dear friend) that I better learn how to be a character actor because I couldn't

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-33334848679818162262009-07-11T21:41:00.000-07:002009-07-12T00:06:29.105-07:00

Memory is hazy.But the details of a first kiss are crystal.I've got five things on my mind tonight, all of them rolling around in a frightening symbiosis.The first of which is cosmology. I'm reading Brian Greene's "The Fabric of the Cosmos" which is more or less a light introduction to quantum mechanics and the state of the universe as we know it. I'm at the part where a subatomic particle

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-52524270315885406742009-07-01T19:13:00.000-07:002009-07-01T19:34:22.665-07:00

Forgive me dad, for I have probably sinned.It has been several weeks since my last post.I felt terrible. It took me three months to drag my lazy ass out of the wussy column and back into the moderately nonathletic. Three weeks to get feeling back into my fingers. One month of incredibly uncomfortable physical therapy. Four days of being the perfect husband in order to get my wife to love me again

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-91149211971761266952009-06-17T16:14:00.000-07:002009-06-17T17:31:09.310-07:00

Oscar Hammerstein not so famously quipped that there is no such thing as inspiration. Only hard work.He was kind of an ass.I prefer Leonard Cohen's answer when asked if he sweated over the good lines."Only before and after. The good ones just appear." he saidThen there's my dad's quip: "I hate writing, but I love having written."I'm not sure if he stole that one, but if he did, I'm better off not

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-62071109407208855672009-06-12T16:43:00.000-07:002009-06-12T17:35:00.382-07:00

In the car I have the radio cranked.So what if its NPR?But the news started to get a little redundant, even for NPR, so I turned the radio over to a music station.I do this rarely because A) If I listen to music too much during the writing process, I tend to extract melody lines that aren't really mine, B) I hate commercials and C) Talk radio is slowly giving the sixteen year old an ulcer.That

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-78340747005805049902009-06-08T18:55:00.000-07:002009-06-08T19:39:28.905-07:00

So it's no use denying it now.I'm in a total slump.this "impinged" nerve in my back has totally proved that Newtonian physics are fully applicable in the magical world of creative endeavors. Inspiration in motion will stay in motion until acted upon by a greater or equal force.I was on a six month high. Gettin it done, as it were. But when I came to an abrupt physical halt, everything, including

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-52890094811811603182009-05-27T18:51:00.000-07:002009-05-27T20:37:45.501-07:00

Tonight we dined.Barbecued chicken breasts and day old pasta salad.Day old pasta salad doesn't sound like a culinary delight, but oh how wrong you are.Give the pasta salad a day to absorb all the flavors from the dressing. The fresh garlic, the extra virgin olive oil, the balsamic vinegar, and the fresh thyme. A day to soak up all the fantastic tastes (including the bacon slices) and the day old

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-55562075324464095352009-05-20T19:29:00.000-07:002009-05-20T19:58:14.891-07:00

"Why are you Broken?" is a duet.It just is.I can't tell you why or how I know it. I haven't got much beyond the first few lines, which I won't bother to share yet because they are bound to change.I don't have a true melody line, a bridge, or a chorus.Just a title and an idea.The title came from Calvin. The idea came from a friend.A good friend. A loving friend. A lifelong companion who called me

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-70978181615687958042009-05-15T20:18:00.000-07:002009-05-15T20:36:32.880-07:00

Well, I don't have gout. I don't have tendonitis nor the aforementioned tendinitus (again a fine distinction) I don't have cardivascular disease. My blood pressure was 144 over 75. High, but normal. I'm not suffering froms SARS or swine flu.No, unfortunately, I have a perfectly normal impinged nerve.Impinged?That's not even a word.I checked.And the treatment is perfectly normal as well.Rest.Do

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-69855607908839848172009-05-13T17:38:00.000-07:002009-05-13T18:06:22.109-07:00

Ow.No really.Ow.Calvin gave me the perfect line for the next song."Why are you broken?"It'll be like the anti-power ballad. I envision incredibly peppy satirical lyrics wrapped around minor key melodies.It takes the perfect song cliche "I'm broken, you're broken, we're all broken" and kind of tosses it in the air to watch it splatter to the ground.I live for turning phrases.Live for for it.So

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-84019817193561496592009-05-12T17:03:00.000-07:002009-05-12T17:24:34.384-07:00

Haven't written a darn word in almost two weeks.Did I die?Sort of.Actually, two days after my show I threw out my arm.No big bang, no little pop, just woke up and everything hurt.Can't sleep. Can't move. Can't make non-fat lattes, can't pick up a guitar. Left arm totally en fuego. (that's spanish for %$@$^).In italian it's "basta!"In french its "eaux"Now a normal person might find this

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-64161702796221875092009-05-03T13:43:00.000-07:002009-05-03T14:32:11.759-07:00

Seems I left the last post with a bit of a cliffhanger.did I suck? Did I kick ass? Did I spontaneously explode from a deadly mixture of Guinness and adrenaline?Not so much.So where the hell have I been?Well. There's work to do. Flying monkeys to feed. Nieces to see perform. You know, normal stuff.So allow me to digress, expand, condense and allude.First, the show went great. I arrived at the pub

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-59910350550622850372009-04-30T16:22:00.000-07:002009-04-30T16:42:53.125-07:00

tonight's the night.tune the strings, power up the PA, worble through the first few notes, then procede directly to kick ass!Oh . . . yeah . . . I've been a wreck all week.The butterflies in my stomach are playing Wagner and looking for a good place to surf.But there are a few truisms to consider before letting go of the turkey sandwich I had for lunch.One . . . sucking won't kill me. In fact

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-23946773440493122922009-04-28T14:53:00.000-07:002009-04-28T16:04:08.635-07:00

I've been thinking about the past.In the typical melancholy way.It's a perfectly reasonable trap to fall into.My grandmother asked me the other day if I ever had any intention of returning to theatre.I said no. Not because I haven't fantasized about what my life might look like if I hadn't quit, and not because its totally unreasonable to think I may one day return to the path of my former life,

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-25071768899979943252009-04-24T17:36:00.000-07:002009-04-24T18:03:34.475-07:00

It occured to me today that it has been almost two weeks since my last post.how the hell is anyone going to be able to follow along if there's nothing to follow?so let me explain,no wait, we haven't got much timelet me sum upI posted "Only Hope" on myspace (www.myspace.com/joshmacrae)For new readers this is the song about how my son is out growing his love of music and how devistated I am by

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-40206730453165361712009-04-13T11:56:00.000-07:002009-04-13T12:31:58.640-07:00

this morning as I finished a cup a coffee, I was treated to another episode of brotherly territorialsim.The three year old wanted to play the M&M video game (not to be confused with MNM the rapper) We're talking M&M candies in suped up race cars.The sixteen year old wanted to play Mario Kart.This fight went on for ten whole minutes before the little one got loud. So I yelled at the older one.I

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-69727791575001860142009-04-07T14:57:00.000-07:002009-04-07T15:35:08.118-07:00

Today is a fine day for chili.As the rain blows past my window, chili simmering on the stove, my eyes still filled with onion induced sobbing. I should be strumming on an old guitar, bouncing melodies off the silent uncritical walls and be happy.A stormy day is the best time for self reflection. The best time to pen a sappy ballad.Plus, rain makes a good ryhming word.But alas, tis not to be.This

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-45886053760591142502009-04-02T16:33:00.000-07:002009-04-02T17:02:14.525-07:00

I can't record this new song right.Just one good pass. That's all I need. A microphone, a guitar, a chair. Not much too it.But I've been banging away in my little studio for a week now and the outcome is just dismal.It's beyond dismal. Its outright depressing.So how could this be? Yo? (I added the "Yo" so as to stay true to my inner city roots).It's simple but its complicated.First problem is my

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-35622846411253231012009-03-25T17:34:00.000-07:002009-03-25T18:06:18.190-07:00

in catching up on my gossip mags, the ones strategically placed around my mother-in-law's house, I came across this interesting piece of news.Apparently, Rick Springfield is releasing an album inspired by his sons.Apparently, Rick Springfield and I are walking parallel paths.my initial thought was "oh crap" I'm totally going be treading water in Rick Springfield's backwash.However, where maybe

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-90650558128816739142009-03-18T17:28:00.000-07:002009-03-18T18:07:38.387-07:00

so I tried the new song out on my wife.and she liked it.the best part is calvin stopped his video game addiction and came over to me and put his hands on my knee the way he used to when I played.It's funny that the first line of the chorus came directly from something that calvin had said that bruised my tender little heart.but it requires a little splainin.Way back in summer of aught 8 (2008 for

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-38833355862328818052009-03-17T16:24:00.000-07:002009-03-17T16:54:13.439-07:00

everything about the first album went wrong.my god, how everything went wrong.from the moment I turned on the mic nothing but epic greek tragedies awaited me.and it still continues.this afternoon when I got home there was a message waiting from me from the printing company. apparently the proofs for the back panel were going to clip half the text.I used their templates. I colored in the lines.

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-79823535388310473622009-03-16T20:15:00.000-07:002009-03-16T20:35:04.775-07:00

So this new song, the one I'm currently writing, has been haunting me for almost three weeks now. As I said before, I had nothing but the first stanza.From that one stanza, I must have written about ten choruses.Ten is too many.between the cigarettes and bottles of wine, I should have given up.but then the twelve string happened and new life was breathed into the dead horse.But that was last

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-70246498677755377692009-03-11T18:09:00.000-07:002009-03-11T18:40:12.464-07:00

It is. Twelve is a magic number.Oh I know what you're thinking.Three . . . It's three that's the magic number!But you're so incredibly wrong.you're incredibly wrong by one fourth.You're wrong by one half squared.Okay enough of the math jokes.Twelve is the magic number not only for its math joke capability, but it is also the number of strings on one of my guitars.Why is that magic? you ask. Well,

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-42352215852360280742009-03-09T20:54:00.000-07:002009-03-09T21:06:27.197-07:00

I haven't written because I've been writing.Since this is a blog about the song writing process, I'm sure you get the point.This new one is a challenge. It's slow tempo, and back to my 6/8 roots. Kind of a waltz but not quite.the reason it's such a challenge is because the only thing I like about it so far is the first stanza."Only hope draws a solid line. I can see why you would need to dance

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-82545874717763415632009-03-03T19:49:00.000-08:002009-03-04T16:57:33.043-08:00

About eight years ago I was pounding on my piano trying to compose a bridge for a new song. I pounded and pounded, but nothing sounded right. Furious that my parents had never made me take piano lessons, I stepped away from the upright and pulled my twelve string out of its dusty case. The strings were rusty and it was desperately out of tune but I strummed anyway.Then, out of no where, there it

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-38545654465058401512009-03-02T20:46:00.001-08:002009-03-02T21:19:56.120-08:00

Now of course it occured to me right away that using a phrase like "Catch it to me" is dangerously close to the kitchy taboo I've imposed on this project.It's too cute. It's exactly the kind of silly rubbish that I want to try to avoid at all costs.And there's absolutely no way of explaining the line without explaining who said it and why.So how do I get away with it? How do I make it into

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-85938127331542959662009-02-27T17:34:00.000-08:002009-02-27T18:44:24.747-08:00

" Catch it to me!" He said.Now in the normal universe, we find it adorable when our little monkeys transpose ideas in their search for language. We want to put on a multi-colored knit sweat shirt and share this verbal guffaw with the rest of the known world."How cute is that?" we ask our ambivilant friends and family."Soooo cute!" the girls will answer."Uh huh." the men will shrug.But a

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-66748802811506912712009-02-25T16:49:00.000-08:002009-02-25T17:54:31.983-08:00

Old habits die.Like lighbulbs and grandmas.Sometimes its best not to watch.My wife and I used to have a great habit.She would come home, change into something comfortable and decidedly unsexy. Something with pastels and paisley patterns.We would sit down to dinner and try to convince the twelve year old that one more piece of broccoli wasn't going to kill him. We would clear the table, grab a

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-21086988874617234302009-02-24T15:57:00.001-08:002009-02-24T17:26:29.961-08:00

Castle Park is the park Calvin and I go to every chance we get.Now its fair to say that my neighborhood is filled with beautiful parks.Most have freshly mowed lawns, jungle gyms, either brand new or in good repair.They have baseball fields with chalked linesBig expanses of level grass for soccer tournamentsBasketball courts with nylon netsBut not Castle ParkCastle Park is decades old.the paint is

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747823488335719876.post-66160638031263607192009-02-23T15:31:00.000-08:002009-02-23T16:41:20.039-08:00

so I'm breaking the rules.I'm setting off on a course that will bring me nothing but ruin, heartbreak and embarassment.awesome.so here goes:in a years time (hopefully)I will start recording my second album.not exactly headline newskind of unsurprising, you might saybut here's where I'm gonna get stupid.I'm gonna let everyone in on the process.I'm gonna write about the whole thing.I'm gonna

Joshua Macraehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06165766329590414338noreply@blogger.com1